Something Like a Sisterhood
by BB222
Summary: This is the story of Carmen, Bridget, Tibby, and Lena's daughters..only these girls are NOT best friends. To their mothers' dismay, these 4 girls have never gotten along. Is one summer enough to bring them together?
1. Chapter 1

Chapter 1—Bailey's POV

Once upon a time, there were four best friends, and they found a pair of magical pants…

Blah, blah, blah. I'd heard the story a thousand times. More, probably. My mom loved telling me stories from her childhood, and that one was her absolute favorite. And although the beginning sounded somewhat like a fairy tale, she was always assuring me it was a true story. Something that had actually happened to her.

My mom's name is Tibby McBrian. I hate her name. "Tibby" sounds so immature, like a five-year-old's name. She didn't do much better in choosing my name, either, though: Bailey. I've heard _that_ story a thousand times, too. I was named after a girl who died of cancer. That's got to be a bad omen.

Anyway, back to my mom's "true story." Well, I suppose it has elements of truth. The four best friends, for example. I know they exist. I've met them, my mom's friends. They are crazy close, much closer than I've ever been to…well, anybody. They're okay, I guess. Except they all swear that the "magical pants" really existed. Yeah, right. How stupid do they think I am?

Oh, I guess I should amend that last part. "How stupid do they think WE are?" Yeah, we. Because my mom's friends all had daughters, too. I think they want us to be "crazy close" like they are, but it's just never worked that way. It never could. Ever.

Bridget's daughter's name is Laura. Laura looks exactly like her mother—in other words, tall, blond, and gorgeous. She knows it, too. You can tell by the way she swings her hair around, looks at non-gorgeous people like they're smushed-up flies, and is always dressed entirely in pink. She is shallow, superficial, and not much good at anything besides making people's self-esteem go down a couple notches.

Then there's Carmen. Carmen's daughter is named Dell. Actually, her name is Delilah, but she goes by Dell. Why, I have no idea. It's a totally weird name. Dell is super tall and skinny. She's a total tomboy. All she cares about is sports. I swear, she's never worn a dress in her life, and she'd probably sooner die than do so. She's very athletic, and I guess she isn't _totally_ intolerable, but we have absolutely _nothing_ in common, besides crazy mothers.

Last is Lena's daughter. Her name is Jennifer, but she usually goes by Jen. Jen is really quiet. Super shy. But unlike other shy people, once you get to know her, she doesn't reveal amazing talents or a lovable personality. She's just _boring_. I mean, she spends her spare time doing things like needlepoint. Eww! I've tried to talk to her…a couple times. A few years ago. Okay, when we were eight. But that's not the point. I said, "Hi Jen. What's up?" She said, "Nothing."

And that was all.

She just sat there, drinking Coke. I waited patiently. She didn't say anything. She hardly acknowledged my presence. Finally, I left.

I Boring/I

When we four were younger, our moms tried to push us together. They signed us up for ballet classes, summer day camps, soccer teams together. But we never clicked. And I think now, they've finally accepted that. Which is good.

But still, I'm forced to put up with Laura, Dell, and Jen sometimes. Our mothers blatantly ignore our dislike for each other and often arrange get-togethers. Barbecues, parties, you know. Adult stuff. And it sucks for us. Really. I just can't get close to those three the way our mothers are close.

It was summer, and while summer is undeniably the best time of the year, it has its cons. For example, the Fourth of July. Every single year, my mom organizes a _huge_ cook-out with Bridget, Lena, and Carmen. They invite tons of people. One year, over one hundred people attended. I'm telling you, it's crazy.

I hate it. I am definitely not the most social person around, and especially not around Laura, Dell, and Jen. Although usually I manage to get some of my own friends invited to this big shindig, which helps.

Anyway, it was early June, but already my mom and her friends were in full-force planning for this year's big extravaganza. It was proving to be the wackiest one yet, I could tell, by their excited shrieks. (I swear, they were all around forty but they acted like teenagers.)

Today, they were planning at my house. They had been sitting in the kitchen since ten in the morning, sipping iced teas and jotting things like "Hamburgers, hot dogs, cake" and "Water balloon toss?" on notepads. Consequently, I spent the day trying to avoid them. Also consequently, by twelve-thirty, I was starving.

Rather than venture into the kitchen, though, and be devoured by those stupid niceties that I hate, I slipped some money into my pocket, grabbed my iPod, and headed out the door. It was actually a rather nice day out, not too hot, with a nice breeze blowing now and then. I was heading to McDonald's, but I decided to take a detour.

I turned left, walking down a shaded street lined with old houses. This was my neighborhood: old houses, old trees, old people. Hardly any other kids around, though I didn't mind too much, honestly. I was fine on my own.

"That you, McBrian?"

That was the voice of Brad Nickel, one of the few other kids around here. Brad was fifteen, a year older than me, and for some reason had always loved tormenting me. He was athletic and good-looking and was arrogant at times, your average popular jock guy. He had a massive thing for Laura and another massive thing for getting on my nerves.

"No, it's not," I replied, not looking at him.

Grinning idiotically, he came up next to me. "Where you going?"

"Nowhere."

He pulled one of my earbuds out of my ear and held it up to his, then wrinkled his nose in disgust. "I can't believe you listen to that crap."

"Hey, I like this song," I said defensively, snatching the bud back. I was listening to a Disney song from the animated movie I Pocahontas /I . Yes, I know, kind of lame, but I really did like the song.

"Do you know what Laura has on her iPod?" Brad asked.

I rolled my eyes. "God, Brad, could you be any more of a stalker? Who I cares /I what she has on her iPod?"

Brad shrugged. "Just wondering."

We walked along in silence for a few minutes. I was starting to regret taking this detour. "Okay, Brad, is there any specific reason you're still here?"

He shrugged again. "Nah, not really. Just bored. I've got nothing better to do."

"Sure you don't," I muttered under my breath. "Come on, isn't there I any /I girl who'd go make out with you in a movie theater?"

"Of course there are, but I'm not in the mood right now. Besides, you can only have so many make-out sessions with girls before they get boring."

"You are absolutely a sick and twisted person," I told him. "You know that, don't you?"

"Yeah, I've heard it before." He checked his watch. "Oh, crap, I've gotta go. See you around, McBrian!" He took a left, while I went right.

I Thank God he left/I I thought to myself, turning my iPod up louder. By now I could see McDonald's. Quickly I turned my iPod off, stuffed it in my pocket, and ran the rest of the way.

"Bailey! Wait up!"

Another chance encounter. It seemed I was a magnet today, though at least this time, I'd attracted somebody worth talking to-my best friend, Shea Pollard.

"Hi Shea," I said. "Were you going to McDonald's? I was."

"I was actually going to your house, but McDonald's works," she replied, swinging open the door. "What's up?"

I rolled my eyes. "You know. It's that time of year again."

Shea grinned, not unsympathetically. "Ah, right. I guess they're planning at your house today."

"Yep." We got in line at the counter. "Drives me crazy."

"Aw, it's not that bad," countered Shea. "I mean, the cook-outs are fun."

I gave her a look.

"If you like that kind of thing, I guess," she added hurriedly, fishing some crumpled money out of her pocket. "Which, of course, you don't. But, you know. It's not that bad. It could be worse."

"Not much," I said.

Shea rolled her eyes. "You are so negative, Bai." Her grin was back lightning-fast. She always did that. It kind of scared me sometimes. "But we balance each other out."

"Yeah." I stepped up to the register to order a burger, fries, and a milkshake. Shea simply opted for fries. We took our food to a table by the window, then started eating.

Shea had only swallowed three fries when she pulled a face. "Crap," she muttered. "Don't look now, but…"

Of course, I looked. Laura, followed by three guys and two girls, was walking up to the door. I groaned loudly. "That's just fantastic. Why is our town so freakin small? It's like there's no escape!"

"I said not to look," Shea said matter-of-factly.

"Thanks," I said sarcastically.

The door opened and Laura and her posse walked in. They didn't glance over to where Shea and I were sitting.

I took another bite of my burger. "I mean, you'd think I'd be safe I here /I , at McDonald's."

"Right," agreed Shea. "They wouldn't want all those calories."

I grinned. "Exactly." I shoved the last of my burger into my mouth. "Come on, let's get out of here."

Shea picked up her fries and we left through the other door. Laura never even saw us. "See," I said, as we walked back towards my house, "if Laura was always like that, I think we'd be good friends."

"You guys didn't say a word to each other."

"I know…that's what I meant."


	2. Chapter 2Dell's POV

Chapter 2—Dell's POV

"Dell! Over here!"

I waved to my best friend, Chris Walker, receiving a dirty glance from a chesty blond girl in a tiny bikini who'd been eyeing him for awhile. If she thought I was interested in Chris, well, she was dead wrong, but we were best friends and had been for practically forever. My mom liked to say that she was born with friends, which, I guess, is true. But then she goes on to say that I could've been born with friends as well. And while that's also potentially true, I'd never spend my life hanging out with my "birth friends." Why? Well, because we're not friends at all, regular or birth.

You know the drill, I think. Laura, the beautiful blond; Bailey, who's surly and withdrawn (my mom says she's just like her own mother was at her age); and Jen, the most boring person to walk this earth. It sounds like a group of friends from a touching girls' novel, doesn't it? It just needs the sporty tomboy to finish it up, right? That would be me, the sporty tomboy, but sorry, there's no story here. None at all, except for a history of screaming toddlers, then crying eight-year-olds, and then on to your textbook spiteful adolescent. Which, I guess, makes a decent story, doesn't it?

Yep, that part of my life is pretty darn twisted, so let me explain a little better. My mom has these three best friends, Lena, Bridget, and Tibby. By some miracle, they all managed to have baby girls around the same time. Which sounds great, but totally isn't. Jen, Laura, and Bailey are nothing like I am. "Opposites attract" does not apply in our case, either. We just don't get along.

Back to the story, then. It was June fifth, and it wasn't very hot out, but I spend most of my summer days at the pool, rain or shine. Swim team is one of my many sports-related passions, and, thanks to that, I know everybody here at the pool. So it's pretty much my all-time favorite place to hang out in the summer.

Chris had been here awhile. I could tell by the water droplets on his bare shoulders and the way his nose was already getting pink-he burns easily. Nevertheless, he grinned jovially at me as I dumped my bag on a chair next to his. "Hey Dell! What's new?"

I took off my shirt. "Nothing. You?"

"I've been scoping out the competition."

"Huh?"

"You know, for swim team!"

"Maybe I need to refresh your memory, Chris. The people on our team are our I teammates /I ."

"Ha ha, Dell, you're hilarious," Chris said dryly. "No, I've been scoping out the competition, for real. I went to all the pools we swim against today and swam a little bit at each pool."

"Wow, really?" I asked, slathering some sunscreen onto my shoulders. "That's cool. Why didn't you call me?"

"I did. Nobody picked up."

"Oh. Well, that's okay. We probably know about all of the major competitors, anyway," I commented. "Unless there are new people?"

Chris shrugged. "I don't know. I saw some hot girls, though."

I rolled my eyes. "Don't want to hear about it."

He grinned. "Yeah, I figured you wouldn't, but I felt compelled to mention it."

"Why, exactly?"

He smirked. "Well—they're I your /I competition, Dell." He puffed out his chest. "To get I me /I !"

I squirted sunscreen into his face, then jumped into the pool. I surfaced and watched as he spat and rubbed at his eyes furiously. "Oh, you are so going to get it when I get this crap off my face," he growled, grabbing my towel and wiping the rest of the lotion off of his skin. I shrieked and kicked away as he dove into the pool, but I wasn't fast enough: surfacing, Chris grabbed my ankle, pulled me under.

When I came up, blinded, but relieved to be in the shallow water, he caught me around the neck in a headlock. "You are so in for it," he whispered in my ear, as I kicked and struggled to get free. He started dunking me under, repeatedly, for a few seconds each time—up and down, up and down. After a few times of this, he released me, laughing. "That's what you get."

I took a deep breath, filling my lungs with air, and climbed out of the pool. "I'm hungry. Let's get a snack."

"Okay, whatever," he said, jumping out and standing next to me. "I'm always up for food."

I rolled my eyes. "Yeah, I know, Chris."

We purchased ice cream bars and found a table to sit at. "So," said Chris, licking at his ice cream, "are you going to get me invited to the Fourth of July thing again this year?"

I rolled my eyes. "Chris, you're always invited."

He shrugged. "I know. I'm just making sure you've still got a place for me."

"Well, you're invited. And you'd better come, too. If you don't, I think I'd go crazy."

He laughed. "They're not so bad, Dell. They're actually kind of fun. Well, the food's good, anyway."

"Yes, but, aside from your bottomless stomach, it's I boring /I ."

"Not really. There's lots of people and games and food and then fireworks…what else do you want on the Fourth?"

I sighed. "I don't know. I just don't like it."

"No, you just don't like Laura, Bailey, and Jen."

I cracked a grin. "Okay, I guess you've got me there. But can you blame me?"

"I don't know. I don't talk to the much," Chris replied. "Have you?"

"Yeah, of course I have. They don't like me and I don't like them, and this Fourth of July thing is another day where we're forced together."

"Not forced, exactly," Chris mused, tossing his chocolate-y stick into the nearest trash can. "You don't have to talk to them."

"Chris, I swear, sometimes you're the most annoying person on this planet," I said, flicking a crumpled-up napkin at him. "Come on, let's go find some other people. I'm bored."

We stood up. Surely somebody else would be here, somebody from swim team-Jake, Zach, or Ben were always around. Where were they today? Nowhere in sight, that was for sure. In fact, none of our swim team friends were present.

"God, this sucks," Chris said an hour later. We'd been playing cards in the bathhouse for forty minutes—one long, continuous, never-ending game of War. "Come on, Dell. Let's have some real fun."

"Yeah, because there's so much I real /I fun to be had around here," I grumbled, gathering up the cards and handing them back to the lifeguard on duty inside the shack. "What do you want to do?"

"Anything," he replied, swinging a leg over his bike. "Hop on."

Reluctantly, I climbed onto his handlebars. "I hate doing this."

"Complain, complain, is that all you ever do?" He started pedaling forward. "Tell me if we're about to crash."

"Car!"

"Huh?"

"There's a car coming, Chris! A Hummer. You might want to get off the road."

"Ha, ha, Dell."

It wasn't funny, though. Because I wasn't kidding. A huge, black, boxy Hummer was headed straight towards us, and it didn't look like it had intentions of slowing down. It honked once and Chris yelped. "Crap!"

"Chris! I Get off the road /I !" I shrieked. "NOW!"

For once, he obeyed, veering off the road straight into a ditch. We crashed into it as the Hummer sped past.

"Stupid jerks," I muttered, watching as it zoomed down the road. "They could've killed us! What were they thinking? I wish I could give them a piece of my mind." Shakily, I got to my feet. I was a little sore and I'd definitely be bruised tomorrow, but I was fine. "Chris? You okay?"

I got a groan in response. I turned around to see Chris lying on the ground, his eyes closed and jaw clenched. He was holding his right ankle.

"Oh my God. Chris."

"I think it's broken." He gasped. "It I hurts /I ."

"Don't move, Chris. Not an inch. I'll get help, okay? Be right back." I wheeled the bike away, rested it on a tree, and then sprinted full speed back into the bathhouse, which was luckily just down the road. Rick, the lifeguard on duty, looked up.

"Hey Dell," he said.

"Rick! Chris is hurt. I think he broke his ankle."

Rick was up in a flash. "One sec, I'm coming." Megan, one of the younger lifeguards, was passing by. Rick grabbed her by the arm. "Megan, can you cover me?" Looking puzzled, she nodded.

"Okay, great. Come on, Dell." He started running out. "Where?"

"Turn right, he's in a ditch!" I couldn't keep up with Rick, but I ran as fast as I could anyway.

When I reached Chris, Rick was already bent over him. I stood by nervously. Rick looked up at me, his face grave. "It's really swollen. We have to get him to the hospital. Dell, go back to the pool and find Alex."

I nodded, then ran back to the pool. Alex, a seventeen-year-old swimming champ, was sitting on a bench reading. Luckily he wasn't on duty. "Alex," I said, coming up to him. "Chris is hurt. Rick said to come get you."

Alex put down his book, stood up. "What happened?"

"He fell off his bike. We have to get him to the hospital."

"Yeah. Okay. Get in my car, we'll drive over to him."

I followed Alex out to his car and got in the passenger seat. "They're not far away. Just turn right, he's just up the road," I instructed. Alex drove where I told him to and soon we saw them.

Alex and Rick lifted Chris into the backseat. I slid in next to him. "I've got to go back to the pool," Rick said. "See you guys later." He took off, jogging, and Alex started driving.

What a way to start off the summer.


	3. Chapter 3 Jen's POV

Chapter 3—Jen's POV

I'm not sure why, but most people seem to think I'm boring.

I mean, I'm a perfectly normal teenage girl. Like most girls my age, I'm sure, I would be spending my summer volunteering at the library, tutoring fifth-graders, and studying for high school entrance exams. (Unlike most of my peers, who would go to the public high school, I was aiming to get into a private, highly selective institution.) In my spare time, I'd be participating on the swim team. See? Normal summer activities.

On this particular day, I woke up at seven o' clock, showered, got dressed, and then ate breakfast. Then I checked my schedule for the day:

8:30-10:00—swim practice

11:00—lunch

12:30—tutoring at library

4:00—study for exam

6:00—dinner

Ah. Seemed like it would be a nice day.

Although, I must admit, I was feeling a bit nervous about swim practice. I'd never been on swim team before, but I had been on _a_ team before, and my experience hadn't been the greatest. I wasn't the most athletic person, with my short legs that don't seem to be able to do much. But my mom had suggested that I sign up, and so, for the sake of getting fit, I did.

I _felt_ like a swimmer, though, as I walked down the street to the pool. I was wearing my dependable, navy blue one-piece suit, with sensible jean shorts over it. On my feet were orange and yellow water shoes, so that I wouldn't slip in the pool (the bottom was quite slick.) I had my pink goggles slung around my neck, my hair in a ponytail, and I was carrying my towel. See? Perfect swimmer attire.

I walked into the pool area, which was already littered with kids of varying ages. The youngest I could see looked to be about five years old. Most of the kids were around my age, give or take a couple years.

"Jen? Is that you?" I heard an incredulous, vaguely-familiar voice behind me, so I turned. Then I gasped.

"Dell?"

Dell, wearing a swimsuit with the team's emblem on it, stepped forward. "What in the world are you doing here?" Her eyes, I noticed, strayed down to my water shoes.

I stiffened. "Having swim practice, of course. What else?"

Her eyes just about bugged right out of her head. "Wait-you joined _our_ swim team?"

"Oh, please. It's not _yours_."

She ignored me. "Are you any good?" From the derisive way she asked, I could tell that she thought she knew the answer already.

"I've never tried, but I'm sure that if I put my mind to it-"

"So you're saying you're not?"

"No! I am most certainly not." I pulled my goggles up over my eyes. "I'm just new at it."

She laughed, not kindly, either. "Yeah, we can all see _that_."

That, I thought, was unnecessary. "See you later, Dell." I turned around, mostly so she wouldn't see the tears pricking at my eyes. What had I done to her to deserve that treatment?

Quickly I pushed my goggles back down to my neck and rubbed my eyes furiously. _Don't cry, don't cry,_ I told myself sternly. I swallowed, and the tears left. _See? You're fine_, I told myself, feeling better.

"Okay, everybody gather round!"

This voice was authoritative, so I figured it must be the coach. I dropped my towel, slid out of my shorts, and then joined the group of kids surrounding a young guy, maybe in his early twenties. He had a clipboard and a pen and was wearing only baggy swim trunks, revealing a very muscled chest. I looked away from it.

"Okay, for those of you who don't know me, I'm Rick," he introduced himself. It seemed that most of the kids knew him. "I coach the middle age group." He gestured to two girls beside him, looking to be about the same age. "This is Lila and this is Madison. Lila teaches the older kids and Madison will be with the younger kids."

I was starting to get a bit nervous. It was inevitable that I'd be grouped with Dell, and I didn't really want that.

"Okay, so-middle age group kids, which is ages twelve to fifteen-follow me!" A good part of the group followed Rick over to the deep end of the pool. I tagged along. They dove in; I stood uncertainly at the edge.

"Hey, you, you okay?"

Rick came up behind me and put a hand on my shoulder. I jumped. "Oh, yeah," I babbled. "Just fine."

"Okay, just checking." It seemed that Rick liked the word "okay" a lot. He dove into the pool. I sat down, my legs hanging into the water, then eased myself in-it was freezing!

"Alrighty! Time for roll-call." "Roll-call" consisted of Rick scanning the group to see if everybody was there, _very_ unprofessional. "Looks like we're good," he assessed. "Now, everybody is going to introduce themselves. Tell us your name, your age, and something about yourself." I thought that this exercise was mostly for my benefit, and a few other kids who seemed to hang back like me. Everybody else looked as if they were previously acquainted. He pointed to me. "You start."

"Um. Um." I could feel my cheeks going red as Dell and her friends turned their gaze on me. "My name is, um, Jen, and I'm fourteen, and um, I like to read."

This comment, which I thought perfectly normal, gathered snickers from the crowd. Rick clapped his hands. "Great. Next!" He gestured to a girl next to me.

"I'm Nancy…" I didn't listen to the rest of Nancy's introduction. I was too busy silently berating myself. _Why_ had I gotten myself into this? More than anything I wanted to back out, just jump out of the pool and run home. Surely nobody would try to stop me, would they? What could they do to me?

Much too quickly for my liking, the introductions ended and then the real swimming began. Rick split us up, boys and girls, and had us all dive into the pool. I lingered towards the back of the line. I'd never dived before in my life. I'd kill myself, I just knew it, or break my neck-

Whoa! How did I get all the way up here? Now there were only two people left before I'd be expected to jump headfirst into the water. I watched Dell dive. Her body arced perfectly and gracefully. It made me nauseous.

One more girl, and then I was up. I swallowed and looked down at the water. Rick watched me. "You okay, Jem?"

"It's Jen," I corrected. "And no, I'm not." I lowered my voice. "Uh…I don't know how to dive."

"Ah. A first-timer." He grinned at me. It made me feel a bit better. "Okay, just put your arms up like this…bend over…and jump!"

I tried. Really, I did. But all I could manage was a regular, feet-first jump, with my hands held over my head idiotically. I surfaced, gasping, to uproarious laughter. Bright red, I climbed out of the pool.

"Not quite like that," Rick said. "Bend forward more, like this." He put his hand on my back and pushed me forward. But when I jumped, I got the same result.

"Okay, let's try this. Come on." He sat down on the wall and I sat next to him. "Go like this," he instructed. "Now lift your arms like before and just kind of fall in."

I stared at him. "_What_?"

He laughed, but not unkindly. "Like this." He fell forward with a small splash.

"I won't do it," I said.

Rick ran a hand through his hair. "Okay, I've got an idea. Crouch here, by the edge. Kind of make your body into a ball." I obeyed.

"Now get your arms up." I did.

Then, without warning, I felt strong hands on my back…and then he pushed me into the water! Alarmed, I flailed wildly and surfaced, splashing everybody in the vicinity. "What-what-" I sputtered. "What was _that_?"

Rick smiled. "There, now you've done it once, it won't be so hard," he said. "Now stand up and try!"

I gaped at him in disbelief, but he was dead serious. "Go on, Jen."

I tried…and it was kind of better…until I belly-flopped.

The wind was knocked straight out of me. "Oof," I said weakly, trying to get some air into my lungs. "Ow…" I couldn't get a breath in. "Oh…"

Rick turned to the rest of the group, about fifteen kids. "Everybody, two laps, freestyle," he instructed. Then he turned back to me. "Okay. That was better. But you just have to bend more…"

Was he really, seriously expecting me to do it _again_?

Finally, by the end of practice, I'd managed to get one good dive in. As I miserably toweled myself dry, Rick came by and slapped me on the back gently. "Hey. Take it easy. On Wednesday we'll practice some more, okay?"

I appreciated his kindness, but now I knew-it was hopeless. I'd been completely wrong to sign up for swim team. I pulled on my jean shorts, gathered my things, and started out of there.

"Wait up, Jen!"

_No, no, no. Just go away._ I couldn't deal with Dell right now. Worse, she had a cute boy in tow. He wasn't wet-but then I figured out that was because he had a cast and crutches.

I turned to Dell. "I'm really not in the mood right now."

"Aw, why not?"

"I think you know perfectly well," I snapped.

"Ooh," she mocked. "Someone's touchy." I glanced over at the boy. He looked vaguely uncomfortable. He caught my eye. Was that something like sympathy in his eyes?

"So, what's on the agenda for today?" Dell asked me. "Maybe lunch with all your teachers from last year. Or reading some books-_Crime and Punishment_ or, my personal favorite, _20,000 Leagues Under the Sea_."

"Lay off, Dell," the boy mumbled.

Dell rolled her eyes. "Whatever. See you later, Jen." Except she didn't sound very friendly. She and the boy flounced off and I breathed a sigh of relief.

Hopefully, tutoring would be much better than swim team.


	4. Chapter 4 Laura's POV

Chapter 4—Laura's POV

Ah, summer!

I love summer with all my heart. I _live_ for summer, you might say. This is mostly because I hate school. I guess I'm kind of a "dumb blond," although I hate the phrase. My grades are, okay, pretty horrific, but I'm not _dumb_ or anything. Jeez.

Anyway. Summer! I love everything about it: unlimited mall time, string bikinis, getting tan, not having school…oh yeah, it rocks.

This particular summer was promising to be like any other, coming with the good things and with the bad. The bad would be having creepy Brad Nickel practically _stalking_ me and my mother's Fourth of July cook-out. But the good canceled out the bad, so I was happy.

June is my favorite month, I have to say. It just holds so much promise for the summer days to come. And it's not as hot yet, which is good because when it gets hotter, my hair becomes a giant frizzball—_so_ not attractive.

My friends and I were lounging in my best friend Marissa's basement. Marissa's rich, so we usually hang out at her house. Her basement is _sweet_, with a huge plasma screen, unlimited DVD selection, CD's galore, and lots of food. Plus, her parents aren't usually home, which is a plus for us.

So like most other days, we had the house to ourselves. "We" was me, Marissa, Lainey, Emily, David, Seth, Austin, and Ryan. Our normal group.

The boys were playing video games on the plasma while us girls looked on, chatting and drinking sodas. David leaned over and whacked Seth as Seth's rocket blasted David's. Then Ryan came along and blasted them both into oblivion.

Seth tossed the controller aside. "This is boring," he announced, grabbing Emily's soda and downing it. "Let's do something fun." He grinned at Emily suggestively. Emily practically melted right there. "Yeah," she mumbled. Seth and Emily have been going out about six months and they are, well, prone to make-out sessions.

I groaned loudly. "Please, can we lay off the making out for once?" Emily turned bright red, but Seth just laughed.

"Oh, _fine_," he said. "What do you think we should do, then, Laura?"

I shrugged. "I'm just tired of you guys always leaving to play tonsil hockey, that's all." The others nodded and "yeah"ed.

"Are there any good movies out?" piped up David.

"Nah," replied Austin. "Nothing new. Just a bunch of lame stuff."

We lapsed into silence. I drained the rest of my soda, crumpled the can, and tossed it at Ryan. (He was my latest crush, I should add.) He held up his hands to fend off the can. "Hey," he said. Ryan had long, shaggy dark hair and bright blue eyes. "No can-throwing."

I grinned, then threw the can away. "Marissa, you got any popcorn?"

"Of course," she replied, "but let's get out of here. Come on, let's go to the mall or something."

The boys let out terrible groans. "No," moaned Seth. "_Please_. Anything but that." The boys had spent countless days carrying bags for us, and apparently they were done with that.

"There's nowhere else to go," sulked Marissa.

David let out a large, obnoxious belch. "I'm starved. Let's get some pizza."

"Yeah," agreed Ryan, standing up. "Pizza sounds good."

"Fine," I consented, giving in. "Let's go get pizza. Maybe we'll see somebody out there."

"Like who?" asked Emily, as we trooped up the stairs.

I shrugged. "Hot guys." We laughed.

It was hot out, unusually hot for an early June day. I was glad I was wearing a new hot pink tank top and short white shorts. I dug around in my pocket to see if I had any money. I did.

"Laura, is that you?"

I winced-I knew who the voice belonged to before I turned around. "Yes, it's me," I responded.

Brad Nickel grinned, walked up to me, and casually slung an arm around my shoulders. _Ew!_ I ducked out of his embrace. "Uh, what's up?"

"Nothing. Just heading to get some pizza," he replied, not even bothering to pretend like he wasn't staring at me. _Don't stare at me, you creep!_

"Oh, that's cool. But-"

Grinning maliciously, Ryan sidled up beside me. "That's lucky," he said. "We were just getting some pizza, too. My name's Ryan." He stuck out his hand.

Brad shook it. "Brad Nickel."

Introductions were made. I threw Ryan a dirty look and he smirked. It seemed he'd picked up on the Brad-stalkerish kind of thing.

"So, Brad." Brad and Ryan were now walking side-by-side at the front of the group. "How do you know Laura?"

"Well," said Brad, "it's kind of complicated. I know this girl, Bailey, who knows Laura…" before long he'd launched into the story of me, Bailey, Jen, and Dell. Of course, my friends had heard it a thousand times. It was pretty creepy, though, how Brad knew the entire thing.

When he finished, and my friends had had a nice, long laugh at me, Ryan turned around to look at me and made a face. I stuck my tongue out at him (very mature, I know), and he laughed.

We'd reached the pizza place by now, and the nine of us entered and sat at a large, round table. Somehow Brad ended up next to me, but at least Ryan was on my other side.

"So, Laura, what have you been doing lately?" Brad asked me.

"Oh, not much," I said sweetly. "Just, you know, hanging out."

"We should hang out sometime," he suggested. Oh yeah, really subtle.

"Um…well…okay…"

"We could all hang out together!" Ryan jumped in enthusiastically. "It'd be fun!"

I clenched the salt shaker. The urge to dump its contents on Ryan's head was very tempting, but I restrained myself. Instead, I just stomped on his foot under the table.

Or so I thought.

"Ouch!" cried Emily. "Somebody just stamped my foot!"

"Weird," I commented loudly, before Ryan, who was much too perceptive for my liking, said anything. "Er, waitress! Waitress!"

The waitress, a girl only a couple years older than ourselves, stood before us with her hands on her hips. "What?"

"I, uh, need a refill." I shoved my cup into her hands, then got an idea. "So does Emily." I reached for Emily's cup, which was half-full. "Oops!" I had, er, _accidentally_ dumped her remaining Coke straight onto Ryan's shirt.

"God! Laura!" He jumped up, staring down at his shirt. "What was _that_ for?"

"Sorry, Ryan!" I said, tossing him some napkins. When he looked down at me, I smirked at him. _Now what?_ I mouthed. He'd always been a horrible lip-reader, to our constant irritation, but he got the gist of what I was saying, and made a face.

I smiled at him, which only made him angrier. I could see the anger flashing in his eyes. And then I got scared. Was he _really_ mad? Maybe I had gone too far.

Or maybe he'd want revenge…

Either way, _something_ had started just now. I wasn't sure what, but it would be interesting to see it unfold.


	5. Chapter 5 Bailey

Week one of summer, besides that one little planning session, had gone well. A little boring, but it had been okay. I lounged around, slept in, and hung out with Shea. What else do you need? Honestly, if the whole summer went like that, it'd be fine by me.

But by week two, summer's shine had considerably dulled.

The biggest bummer was that Shea was now at camp—sleepaway camp, and she'd be there for the next _month_. I'd already gotten a letter from her, but basically, now summer _sucked_. She'd tried to get me to come to camp, too, but I'd declined. Making lanyards and s'mores isn't exactly _me._ But Shea has been going to this camp since second grade, and she's got lots of friends there and stuff. So yeah.

And that wasn't all. That Tuesday—two days after Shea had departed—my Aunt Katharine dropped by. Aunt Katharine's way young. She's a whole lot younger than my mom. I'm not sure exactly how old she is, just…young.

Her husband's young, too—young and _filthy rich!_ She started dating this guy, Dan, three years ago. I think he's about a year older than her. He's very buff, too. I think he works out a lot. He's tall and handsome and _completely_ in love with Aunt Katharine. And last year they had a baby, Danielle. They were hoping for a boy to name "Daniel" after Uncle Dan, but they got a girl, so she's Danielle.

Anyway, that Tuesday, I was lying on the couch in my pajamas, scrolling through the songs on my iPod and vaguely considering taking a shower, when the doorbell rang. My mom was out running errands, so I went over to the door and opened it.

"Bailey!"

I blinked. "Uh, hi, Aunt Katharine." She was wearing skin-tight jeans, ridiculously high heels, and a neon pink tank top. This was one of her less noticeable outfits. I opened the door. "Uh, come in."

She came in, her heels clattering on the floor. Dan, carrying Danielle, followed, grinning at me.

Confused, I followed the three of them into the kitchen. "You need something, Aunt Katharine?" I asked.

She waved a pink-manicured hand carefreely. "Oh, no. Just thought we'd drop by. Is your mom here?"

"Uh, no. She'll be here soon." I was very aware of my appearance: I hadn't yet showered or put in my contacts, so it was probably not that great. "Do you want anything?"

"Oh, no, we'll just wait for your mom. So how have you been, Bailey? How's your summer going?"

"Uh, fine." I laid my iPod on the table. "Just kind of boring."

"You haven't met any cute boys?" Aunt Katharine wiggled her eyebrows in a way that made me want to throw up.

"Uh, no." Boy inventory for the summer: Brad Nickel, Brad Nickel, and Brad Nickel. _Ew._

"That's okay. The summer's still young, after all. I'm sure you'll find someone."

I tried, I really, really did, not to make a face at that comment. But I couldn't do it. Luckily Aunt Katharine had already looked away, but I could tell from Uncle Dan's snigger that he'd caught the disgusted look on my face.

He set little Danielle on the floor, and she waddled over to me, arms outstretched. I picked her up. "Whoa, Danielle. You've gained weight," I said, holding her out to her dad.

Uncle Dan took her back. "Yeah, she's growing like a weed, alright."

"_Please_, Dan, do not refer to our child as a weed," Aunt Katharine said. "She's a gorgeous little girl."

"It's just an expression, honey," Dan said soothingly. I turned, rolled my eyes, and grabbed my iPod.

"Uh, guys, I gotta go take a shower," I said. "Just…help yourself to whatever. My mom should be back soon." Then I escaped up the stairs and into the bathroom.

I tried to take as long as possible showering and getting dressed, but when I went back downstairs, my mom hadn't yet arrived—sticking _me_ with the responsibility of Katharine and Dan. Ugh.

Dan was watching something on ESPN when I entered the living room, and Katharine was flicking through one of my mom's magazines. Little Danielle was waddling around the room, trying to eat everything in sight.

"Uh," I said, coming into the room, by way of announcing myself. Katharine looked up at me briefly, but didn't say anything. I sat down on the couch next to Uncle Dan.

"Hey, kiddo." I hate the name _kiddo_. "What's new with you? Doing any sports?"

"No." I'd never participated in sports, not since I was about eight, anyway.

"Aw, no swimming? Tennis? Soccer?"

"Nope. Not my thing."

"Huh." Dan stroked his chin thoughtfully. He had very, very light stubble. "Then what _is_ your thing?"

_Of all the questions to ask,_ I thought dryly. I have an answer to almost everything. But this question—if I was going to answer honestly—had me stumped.

My thing? Did I have a _thing_? Besides moping and acting surly? Not really. Everybody has their _thing_, I realized, except me. Shea was a super-star trackster; that was her thing. Jen, Laura, and Dell all had their _things_, settling into distinct cliques around school. Laura was a hot blond. Her _thing_ was, well, boys. Jen was basically a nerd. Dell was a jock. Normal school cliques, cliques you'd find everywhere.

But me? I was like a mutt, a mix of different stuff. If you saw me from across the street, you might consider me Goth or emo. I'm not, really. I mean, I listen to Pocahontas songs on my iPod, for Pete's sake. You might think I'm a cutter. But no, EW, I would not be able to cut myself.

Those are assumptions you'd make when you saw me. But I'm not _really_ any of those things. I'm surlier than most kids my age, but that's, like, _hereditary­­-_my mom was, too! And as for things I _do_-huh. Just about nothing.

Uncle Dan's question really threw me for a loop there. _Then what is your thing?_

"Uh-uh-" I said, realizing Dan was expecting an answer, "I guess my thing is, like…laundry?"

"Laundry?" I could practically see Dan's thoughts: _Okay, my niece is a freak. No big deal. Just don't let her baby-sit Danielle too much…_

I felt myself blushing, so I got up, ready to run up to my room, out the door, or anywhere. But then I heard the garage door open and relief flooded through me. Mom was home! Now _she_ could deal with her sister, and _I_ was free to go. (Not like I had anywhere _to_ go.)

A few minutes later my mom entered. She stopped when she noticed Aunt Katharine. "Katharine?" she asked, confused.

"Oh, Tibby!" Aunt Katharine jumped up and hugged my mom, who still looked puzzled. Her eyes searched out mine, and I shrugged. "Hi, Mom. Gotta go." I escaped, grabbing my iPod and running out the door before anyone could stop me.

Unfortunately, running didn't solve anything.

I'd managed to spend most of the day away from the house, hoping that when I got back, Katharine, Dan, and little Danielle would be gone. (I'm a bit on the anti-social side, yes.) I got some ice cream, walked around, walked some more, bought a hot dog, and used up all the battery on my iPod. It was blazing hot out but I didn't want to go home.

When I slipped back into the house around seven-thirty that evening, however, I noticed with dismay that Dan's shiny red sportscar was _still_ parked in the driveway. Danielle was asleep in the living room, drooling on the good couch.

I peeked into the kitchen. My mom, Dad, Dan, and Katharine were sitting around the table, talking. But despite Aunt Katharine's lemonade with a little pink umbrella in it, none of them looked very happy. Certainly not fit for a luau. What was going on?

Before they could see me I slipped quietly away and went up the stairs, careful not to wake Danielle as I passed her. I could sit near the landing, unnoticed, and watch the four adults through the bars; the landing was over the kitchen. Hopefully I'd be able to hear them.

Luckily they were talking at a decent level. I crouched behind a fake potted plant just in time to hear my dad say "…don't throw that on us!"

My mom placed a hand on Dad's arm. "Calm down, honey. It's not their fault." I could see that my dad disagreed. He'd never liked Uncle Dan much. He thought Uncle Dan was irresponsible and reckless.

Aunt Katharine spoke now. "Please. It won't be for long. Just until Dan can get a job."

WHOA! I hadn't seen _that_ coming. Were they asking to _live_ with us? No, I told myself, of course not…were they?

If you're wondering about Dan's financial status, then let me fill you in. (if you're not confused, skip this paragraph, and the next.) Dan's family is rich. His dad started some mega-huge company, or something. Well, Dan's dad died when my uncle was only eighteen. And his dad, John, had left all of his things to his only son. Which basically meant that Dan was now amazingly rich and was set for life.

But Dan didn't want his dad's job. He wanted to go to college (although he's not much of a scholar. If you ask me, he only wanted to meet girls there.), he wanted to goof off with his buddies, probably do some other stuff that I shouldn't mention. And his dad's job didn't appeal to him in the least. So, his mom took the job. Dan's mom is now doing quite well for herself. She took some of Dan's inheritance, not a whole lot, and then took over John's company. So then she and Dan were both happy….but apparently now something in there had changed.

"When will that be?" my dad asked, not too kindly.

"Soon," Uncle Dan promised, his voice soft.

My mom looked towards my dad, her eyes pleading. "Brian," she said, "we can't turn them away."

My dad nodded. "You're right. You can stay with us for as long as you need." He grinned. "Although Danielle may have to share Bailey's room."

WHAT? NO WAY!

Another downer in Week 2 of an endless summer.

A/N—Just so you know, I will explain what happened with Dan's financial status in Bailey's next chapter! So keep reading! BB222


	6. Chapter 6 Dell

I normally love swim team, but by the end of the first week of practice, I'd begun to hate it.

There was the obvious issue—Chris being injured—but on top of that, something else had happened, making everything much, much worse.

JEN HAD JOINED OUR SWIM TEAM.

Yep, Jen, my mom's friend Lena's daughter. Jen, whom I'd known pretty much forever…Jen, who couldn't even _dive! _It was pathetic.

Still, despite the bad things about summer so far (Chris's ankle, Jen) I was still excited about our first swim meet, which was on June 12th. June 12th happened to be a Tuesday. We had swim practice that Monday, but not on Tuesday, so I spent the day at Chris's house, lounging around and watching him play video games.

Okay, so not a very exciting day, but sadly, it's a normal summer day for me. Sometimes I might go play a little soccer or something, and of course hang at the pool, but other than that, I don't have much of a social life. That might have something to do with the fact that besides my swim buddies, Chris is pretty much my only friend. Honestly, _I_ don't care. Some people think it's weird. (Like Laura, Bailey, and Jen, not to mention my mother.) Some girls at school hate me for it, since with the girls, he's considered "cute," but to me he's nothing like that. We're just friends…we always have been, and we always will be.

ANYWAY. Back to the story. At three o' clock, I went home, arranging to meet Chris at the pool at four. Swim meets started at six, but at home meets, we went early to start setting everything up. And Chris, though he couldn't swim, was totally still a part of the team. Just not a _vital_ part.

So at home I packed up some food, slipped my iPod into its waterproof case, changed into my swim team suit, pulled on a pair of shorts, grabbed my towel, slid into flip-flops, then, trying to carry everything, headed out.

Soon, though, I had to stop. I was carrying too much: my towel; the bag that had my iPod, a deck of cards, ten bucks, my cell phone, my goggles, my swim cap, and sunscreen; the small cooler, which was filled with ice, strawberries, and Gatorade (enough to share); and another bag which had chips, peanut butter crackers, and granola bars inside. These were essential things at swim meets.

"Hey, uh…you need some help?"

I looked up into an unfamiliar face.

A very, very _cute_ unfamiliar face.

The boy, whoever he was, had long, sort of shaggy dark hair and dark eyes. He was tall and lean and grinning down at me.

"Um," I said, straightening up. "Yeah, I guess so." He took the cooler and the plastic bag with the food. "Thanks," I said.

"No problem," he said easily. "My name's Adam."

"I'm Dell," I said. "You live around here?"

He shrugged. "Kind of near, I guess."

Then I noticed his T-shirt. It was green, an ugly olive green. There was a picture of a shark on the front. Underneath the shark, it said: _Lakehaven Sharks: City Champs 3 Years in a Row! 2006_. On the back, in white, it said "ADAM."

Oh, no. No, no, no.

He was a LAKEHAVEN SHARK!

Let me explain. My swim team is the Eagle Woods Eagles. (Bet you didn't see that one coming, huh?) We're a strong team. But we haven't won city since 4 years ago.

No, our enemies, our RIVALS, the Lakehaven Sharks have beaten us out three years in a row.

Just my luck that I finally get an encounter with a cute boy, the kind you read about and wish happened to you, but he had to be a Shark! So unfair.

I'm not a girly-girl who gushes over cute guys, but trust me, I notice them, and stuff. Get crushes periodically (but they fade pretty quickly.) But I've fantasized about boys, and stuff. So…this was nice. But a _Shark_ boy? My friends would never forgive me for that.

"So," he said, as we walked, "where were you headed with this stuff?" I then noticed that he was wearing swim trunks (probably concealing his tighter, team-color suit underneath) and had his own bag. I racked my brains. Were we swimming against Lakehaven today? I couldn't remember; my mind had gone oddly blank.

"A swim meet," I replied.

"You swim?" he asked, looking interested.

"Uh, yeah. I'm an Eagle," I said, bracing myself for Jake's reply.

He laughed.

He _laughed_.

Whatever I'd been expecting, that wasn't it.

"_What_?" I asked indignantly.

"It's just funny," he responded.

Now he was making me mad.

"You know," I said heatedly, "just because the Sharks have won city three years in a row doesn't mean you're better. We've had problems. People have been sick. And…stuff. Besides, I'm sure I could kick your butt in a race!"

He looked a bit taken aback. I wasn't sorry.

"Uh…sorry," he said. "But I wasn't laughing at the Eagles. I know the Eagles are good. You're pretty much our top competitors." Was he sincere? I couldn't tell. He _seemed_ sincere. "I was laughing because, you know. Eagles and Sharks are like rivals."

"Oh," I said, feeling stupid and regretting my outburst. "Yeah. You're right. We are."

"Yeah," he said.

"You're kind of early for an away meet," I pointed out, as we rounded a corner and the bathhouse, painted a violently bright yellow, came into view. "Aren't you?"

"Yeah," he said again. "I am."

"Any particular reason?"

He shrugged. "No." Then he changed the subject. "So what's your favorite event?"

"Relay," I said. "Medley. I have this _awesome_ team. Me, Krissy, Jade, and Jessica. We kick butt…we're going for the city record this year. We're only about thirty seconds over right now."

Adam looked impressed. "Wow," he said. "That's really good. We have a pretty good medley relay team, too. The girls, I mean. They won city last year. But it wasn't a record." He grinned. "You'll have to swim pretty fast to beat them."

"Don't worry," I said confidently. "We'll blow them out of the water." Luckily, he didn't look offended.

We had reached the bathhouse. "Well," I said, taking back my things, "thanks for your help. I guess I'll see you around."

"Yeah," he said. "Good luck tonight!"

"Thanks," I called over my shoulder, as I headed inside. He was already making his way to the designated guest team area.

Through the bathhouse I went, then stepped into the pool area. It was four oh five, and pure chaos. I set down my things and went to find Chris.

I found him sitting on a deck, watching as Rick and Alex separated the lanes. "Hey," I said.

"You're late," he accused. "Who's that guy you were talking to?" He didn't sound jealous, just curious.

"He helped me with my stuff," I said. "He was named Adam. But he was a Shark."

Chris made a face. "Ew."

"He said their girls' medley relay team is really good and that they won city last year."

Chris rolled his eyes. "You and Krissy and Jade and Jessica are awesome," he said. "Don't worry. Just swim."

That was pretty much Chris's mantra during swim meets—"Don't worry. Just swim." It got old, but it hadn't yet this summer. I grinned at him. "Okay, okay."

Gradually, everybody else arrived. Rick posted a sheet saying which people would swim which events. I was signed up for the breast and butterfly this week, as well as the relay, of course. I ambled back over to Chris.

"What are you swimming?" he asked. I told him. Soon the races began. For a while I cheered on Krissy, Jade, Jessica, Jake, Zach, and Ben—my swim team friends. I couldn't help wincing at Jen's pathetic attempt at the butterfly. (She came in dead last.) I also couldn't help noticing Adam in a freestyle race. He had great abs and toned, tan arms. He won, too, beating out Jake, our best freestyle swimmer. Wow.

I watched him discreetly as he hoisted himself out of the pool and toweled himself dry. He was enveloped into a group of Sharks. And _wait_, who was _that_?

A tall, skinny blond girl had just walked up and hugged him. She very obviously was not on the swim team: her hair wasn't chlorine-y or dry, she was dry, and she was wearing a tiny skirt and a tight tank top. Not swimming attire.

And why was she hugging him?

"Dell? What are you looking at?" asked Krissy. "Your race is starting! And dude, you'd better _win_. We're down by twenty points!"

"Twenty? Really?" I shed my shorts and handed them to Chris, who was standing by. "Okay, then. I'll win."

I made my way over to the start line for my first race—breast. Jade was also swimming it. We'd be against two lean, fit-looking Shark girls, but I didn't let them intimidate me. I never got nervous before racing, but I knew Jade did, and sure enough, she looked pretty unsure of herself. She's a good swimmer, but she always gets nervous. I squeezed her shoulder. "Don't freak," I said. "You'll be fine."

She smiled, and then we climbed onto the platforms, waiting for the signal to go. When it came, I dove into the water, surfaced…and then the race began.

Like always, it was a totally surreal experience. Distantly, I could hear splashing and yelling and cheering, but it seemed like it was in another world. I wasn't in that world, I was in this one, in the water. Nobody else mattered, not Chris or Jade or Adam or the two Shark girls. Just swim. Just swim…

The wall. My body, as if on autopilot, executed a perfect flip-turn and started swimming back. I didn't know where the others were; I didn't care. But I was going fast, maybe faster than I'd ever gone before.

Almost there now…almost there…I stretched my arm out, knowing that the sooner I touched the wall, the better off I'd be. Finally my fingers met resistance.

_Whew_. That was a tough swim. My legs were shaky. I floated there for a second, then tore off my goggles and got out of the pool. I noted with pride that I'd won the heat. I hadn't set a new record for myself, but it was definitely a good time. Jade had come in third.

My friends surrounded me, congratulating me. Somebody handed me my towel. I gladly accepted it, then broke away from them to get a Gatorade.

As I was bent over my cooler, a shadow fell over it. I looked up into Adam's face. He was still shirtless, and I had to tear my eyes away from his bare chest.

"Hey," I said, popping open the bottle.

"Hey," he said. "I saw you swim just then. You were awesome."

"Thanks," I said. "I saw you, too. You beat Jake, and he's really fast."

Adam nodded. "He is." Then he shrugged. "Well, I just wanted to say good job."

"Thanks," I said again.

"Maybe I'll see you around this summer," he said. "You'll have a meet at Lakehaven, won't you?"

I nodded. "Yeah, most likely. And conference?" I asked, referring to the huge, end-of-summer meet where all teams raced against each other.

He nodded earnestly. "Oh, yeah. Definitely." He grinned and my heart almost stopped, he was so cute. "Well, I'd better go. See you later," he said, then loped off.

_Wow._ I watched him go, breathless with anticipation of the next time I'd see Adam the Shark.


	7. Chapter 7

Chapter 7—Jen's POV

My first swim meet was probably the most humiliating night of my life.

I got there early, with my usual swim things and a bottle of water. I was feeling optimistic about the night. I mean, working with Rick, I'd almost completely gotten diving down. So that was good, right?

Well, apparently not good enough.

My first race, the butterfly, went relatively well…oh, who am I kidding? It was TERRIBLE. My mom cheering like a madwoman just made it all the worse. Nobody else cheered for me. When I got out of the pool, Dell and her crew looked disgusted.

I didn't know what I'd gotten myself into. Swim team? Sounds so harmless. But don't be fooled.

Also, something sort of odd happened about halfway through the meet.

After my _second_ race, the freestyle, which wasn't much better than the first, I was coming out of the bathroom when I saw Dell's friend, Chris, hanging out by the boys' bathroom. I couldn't help noticing that he was cute. Sorry, but I just couldn't. Trust me, it freaked me out, too. I do not have time for silly little indulgences like _cute boys_, and that's never bothered me before. Why should it start now?

Out of the swim team people, Chris is definitely the nicest. As in, he doesn't taunt me and snigger when I swim, and he doesn't make stage-whisper comments about me behind my back. He doesn't actually _talk_ to me, but he doesn't seem to totally detest me.

I walked by him, not really paying any attention to him, when I felt a hand on my shoulder. I jumped. It was Chris.

"Did I scare you?" he asked, grinning slightly.

"No." I tossed my hair over my shoulder and kept walking. I'm not exactly a social butterfly.

"Hey, wait up," he said, coming up beside me.

"I _know_, Chris, I swim like a drowning bumblebee. I've heard it before, okay? So just go away." Wow. Three whole sentences. Practically a record for me.

His expression softened. "I…um…well, yeah, I wanted to give you some pointers."

I suppose he was trying to be nice, but my cheeks were positively flaming. "Please don't."

"But—I could help you—"

"_No,_ thanks," I said, more forcefully. "I'm _fine_, okay?" We both knew, though, that I was not fine.

"Well, okay then," he said, frowning. "Uh…see you around."

"Whatever," I said, then walked purposefully away. One half of me applauded myself for avoiding an opportunity for extreme embarrassment.

But another part of me wondered if maybe Chris had been serious. He hadn't ever teased me before, and he actually seemed pretty sincere. But still…he was good friends with Dell and all the rest of them. He probably just wanted to see make a fool of myself even more…if, of course, that was even _possible_.

My hair felt like straw. My legs felt like jelly. My cheeks were on fire. I felt like crying.

Guess where I'd come from?

Yep, swim practice.

Chris had actually had the nerve to offer me help again. This time I'd evaded him more quickly, though. I had a tutoring session to get to. When I got home, I took a quick shower, got dressed, then grabbed my bag and headed off to the library.

Today I'd be tutoring two different kids. First was an eight-year-old boy named Timmy, then his twin sister, Tammy. No joke—they really were twins named Timmy and Tammy. Incredibly cruel.

Timmy's session would begin at 11:30. I got to the library at 10:45, giving me plenty of time to browse. I waved to the librarian, Mrs. Eccles, then set down my bag at the table I'd claim for tutoring today. Not coincidentally, it was situated right next to the library café. (I hadn't eaten lunch, and I was starving.)

By 11:10, I'd checked out 10 books to take home and read. I still had twenty minutes, so I bought a turkey sub, a bag of chips, and a water bottle from the café and sat down to eat.

I finished right at 11:30, then threw my trash away and sat down, waiting for Timmy and Tammy. I'd never met either of them, but their mom was paying me ten dollars an hour for _each_ of the kids, meaning I'd bring in twenty bucks today. Not bad for two lousy hours of teaching kids double-digit multiplication.

_They were late_. At 11:45, nobody had showed up. I scanned the library for twins but saw nothing.

Then at noon, two kids rushed in together, a blond boy and a blond girl. They were followed by a taller blond girl…and then another, way too familiar blond girl…

Laura.

Here.

I stood up, hoping and praying that those blond kids weren't Timmy and Tammy. _Please, please, please. Let Timmy and Tammy just be sick or something…_

But no.

The taller blond girl, _not_ Laura, approached me. "Hey. You know somebody named Jen Something-Or-Other? 'Cuz I need to find her."

"Um, I'm Jen," I said. "Hi. Are you, uh, Timmy and Tammy's sister or something?"

"Cousin," she replied, looking bored. "I'm Lainey. This is my friend Laura," she said, indicating, of course, Laura, who'd drawn up beside her.

Laura pushed her sunglasses on top of her head. "No. _Way,_" she said, not exactly kindly.

"Um…hi Laura," I said.

"Jen?" She eyed me with her hip cocked out, dislike written all over her face. "You're tutoring Lainey's cousins?" She pushed her sunglasses back over her eyes and smirked. "Figures, I guess. Who _else_ would spend their summers teaching little kids?"

"Um, what?" I asked, although I had a pretty good idea what she meant.

"I think it's great, actually," she said. "You know. It's great that you aren't just moping around because you don't have any friends. You're, you know, getting out and doing stuff. Good for you." She and Lainey both smiled at me, sickening-sweet and totally fake.

"Yeah," I muttered. But somehow I couldn't get righteously angry. Somehow I couldn't come up with a biting retort.

Because, well, Laura was right. Stupid Laura, with her long, tan legs and streaked blond hair and tiny skirt and tank top. She was totally, completely right. I _didn't_ have friends. I didn't.

So I just stood there while Lainey called over her cousins. "This is Timmy," Lainey said, pushing the boy towards me. "And that's Tammy." She pointed to the girl. "Teach them. Do whatever. Here's ten bucks my aunt gave me for you."

"I'm supposed to get paid ten an _hour,_" I said. "And I tutor them each for one hour. That's twenty dollars."

Lainey shrugged. "My aunt gave me ten. Get over it."

"Yeah," added Laura. "It's not like you need the money. You know, you're not going to go to a movie with your _friends_ or something."

"I'll be back in two hours to pick up my cousins," Lainey called over her shoulder, as she and Laura exited the library.

For the second time that day, I wanted to cry. But I couldn't, not in front of Timmy. Swallowing, I pocketed the money and sat down.

"So, Timmy," I said. "When I talked to your mom on the phone, she said you needed help in science?"

Timmy gave me a look that said he didn't care one bit about science. Or reading, math, or social studies, for that matter.

"She doesn't know anything," he muttered. "I'm plenty smart. I don't need tutoring."

"Do you want to start with math, then?"

Timmy threw me a look of utter loathing.

I sighed. This was not shaping up to be a good day.

Lucky for me, Tammy turned out to be a whole lot cooler than her twin brother. The hour I spent with Timmy was the most unproductive—not to mention frustrating and aggravating—of my life. And I hadn't even gotten paid full wages for it.

By the time Timmy's hour was up, I wanted to go straight home, grab the carton of ice cream, and spend the rest of the day in my room. But Tammy's session, like I said, went way better.

The first thing she said to me when she sat down was, "Here, take this."

I looked down at her little hand, which was scrunched around a ten-dollar bill.

"My cousin didn't give you enough money," she said. "Right?"

I was touched. "She didn't," I replied, "but I can't take your money. Keep it."

"No," she insisted. "It's only fair."

"Look," I said, because I really didn't want to take Tammy's ten bucks, "why don't we use this money to buy a treat, okay? That way we both win."

Her little face brightened immediately. "Okay!" Using the bill, we each got a piece of chocolate cake and a Coke from the café.

"Alright, now down to business," I said, as Tammy polished off the last of her Coke. She was pretty cute, with a small, thin face, and mousy hair that brushed her shoulders.

"Okay," she agreed, pushing the cup aside. "I'm not a very good reader. That's why my mom signed me up for this."

"Well, that's no problem," I said. "By the time I'm through with you, you'll be the best reader in your class."

This inspirational little comment didn't have the effect I'd hoped for. Instead of getting happy and motivated, little Tammy slumped down in her chair. "No, I don't think so," she mumbled, almost inaudibly.

"Huh? Why not?"

"Because _Ariel_ is the best reader in our class, that's why," Tammy replied matter-of-factly. "And that's all there is to it."

"Oh, come on," I said. "Ariel can't be _that_ good."

"Never mind," she said. "Let's just get started, 'kay?"

"Uh…sure," I said, following Tammy's lead.

When I left the library after Tammy's session ended, I was relatively happy. Tammy had been much more cooperative than her brother. I was actually looking forward to her next session. Lainey had been halfway bearable when she picked up the twins. So, all was good.

Sort of.


End file.
